


Fan Art Is The Key To My Heart

by roosterteethrambles



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: at one point some Not Nice things happen, but not with Jon or anything, i didn't wanna use the noncon tag but uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 05:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16867240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosterteethrambles/pseuds/roosterteethrambles
Summary: Celebrating a show ends up opening way more doors for you than you thought.





	Fan Art Is The Key To My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I remember this one was for a giveaway, but oh boy it must be old if Caleb and Kdin were still at AH. Also I'm totally taking credit for the idea of Lindsay ACHIEVE shirts.

You take a deep breath in and squeeze your eyes tightly shut as you click "Post". Your animation, drawing Jon Risinger's face throughout every episode of On the Spot, is now out there for the world to see. Maybe. The most notes you've ever gotten was just shy of 300 on some art inspired by your favourite video game - and even then, that was drawn more in the game's style than your own.

You leave your laptop on and treat yourself to an early night's rest, dreading the disappointing number of people that will end up even liking it, let alone sharing it with others. Even with the added background noise from whatever you'd put on Netflix, you still take a while to get to sleep, tossing and turning. You wonder what would happen if Jon actually did see it. His name's tagged, which you're sure he tracks.

You wonder if the caption was alright. "Happy birthday, On the Spot!" you'd written. "I only remember that because episode 2 came out on mine." Was that too much information? Was that really as lame as it sounds in your head right now?

How will he react? Will he see it and scroll past it? Will he actually acknowledge it? Have you just so happened to publish your fanart the day he decides to delete every single social media account? Knowing your luck, most probably.

You don't remember actually falling asleep, but when you wake up to the blaring light of your laptop screen, you notice you've got a message. Just the one. You read it: "nice blog title, yo." You don't recognise the URL of the person who sent it at all, but when you click onto them you realise that a) they are a Rooster Teeth fan as well and b) they have the same blog title as you. You scroll down their blog, trying to find how they found you when you see Jon's face flashing very familiarly. You hover over the animation to see your caption, followed by:  **roysyesterdayjam** Can I please get this artist to draw me every week? What an incredible art style. 

You shakily move your cursor to click the link to the blog that made that caption. Maybe someone's swapped two of the letters around to fool others, people do that sometimes - nope. This is definitely Jon. Jon Risinger has seen your artwork, decided to share it with his entire following and has complimented your art style to a level where he wants to see it weekly. You look through the other reblogs to check other new comments and tags; while most tend to focus more on Jon's features themselves, such as the growth of his facial hair as well as that on his head, or the "rugby shirt" phase vs the "vest" phase, a good majority also compliment your drawing style, and how well you've captured his features.

You flash up Twitter and type up: “Thank you @JonRisinger for blowing up my Tumblr notifications!” with a screenshot of your dashboard, which has a pile of them as long as the screen allows for. 

Not long after, your phone won't stop buzzing with “_____ liked a Tweet you were mentioned in…” Rolling your eyes, you unlock your phone and see a new notification from Jon: “@Y/N don't thank me, it's your artwork we all enjoy! For those who haven't seen this yet…” Attached to the tweet is your gif, and you stare incredulously once again at Jon's icon right next to your drawing. You turn all notifications off for a while and carry on with your day, a grin stretching across your face that just won't budge.

You completely forget you've had your notifications off for Twitter for a week now, and since it’s your birthday and you feel like tweeting about it, you go through and clear the number from the little bell. Just as you type “Can't believe I'm already” the notification bar flashed up again. And again. And again and again and again and - you cancel your tweet to investigate, and see the first two new entries:

**@JonRisinger** : Happy happy birthday to episode 2 of On the Spot and also @Y/N. One of those has brought joy to me. It's not On the Spot.

**Jon Risinger** followed you

The rest are obviously masses from Jon's followers. You check your own profile out of vanity and notice how much your follower count has gone up by already. Since you realise Jon must be in an even bigger sea of these, you send him a direct message:  _ Thank you for the birthday tweet! _

Jon replies almost immediately:  _ I would have reciprocated your effort but I've not seen you every week for a year. _

You:  _ You make it sound as though I'm some crazy stalker! I just enjoy game shows hosted by constantly evolving hosts who can't smell. _

Jon:  _ Quite a specific taste you got there. How many shows do you watch? _

You:  _ More than you'd think! _

You:  _...Not really. _

Jon:  _ That's what I thought. So what's the birthday girl up to today? _

You:  _ Well right now I'm in a onesie eating Lucky Charms, so clearly I am celebrating like a true adult. _

Jon:  _ You gonna be available from like 6pm onward? _

You:  _ Sure, why? _

Jon:  _ No reason... _

You narrow your eyes at the last words. What could Jon be planning? For a hot second, your mind goes to a place where, hypothetically, Jon is at an airport on his way down to see you. You very quickly dismiss that as you know Jon has no idea where you live, nor would he be that committed to you.

You wait all day with anticipation, and eventually at 17:50 you see Jon tweet: Come join me celebrate my new friend's birthday! Starting in 10  [ http://twitch.tv/JonRisinger ](http://twitch.tv/JonRisinger)

You follow through the link and soon Jon appears on the screen, greeting everyone. You type into chat: “Hey Jon, it's your new best friend!”

He looks over to the other side of the screen and grins, “Oh, the birthday girl is here! Hey, Y/N!” The chat fills with birthday wishes and you thank everyone individually. As Jon decides to play Smite, he calls you out personally and asks you if you play and reads your answer aloud, “ _ Sure, kicking your ass sounds like a great way to celebrate my birthday _ \- hey now! You know, I totally would've gone easy on you because it's your birthday, but after this I don't think I will!”

After you type, “Sure, Jon.” he grabs his phone and taps at it. When it sounds, he laughs, “Hey, Y/N, January called and it wants its meme back.”

Amidst the sea of people telling him the original quote was Jan and not Jon, someone points out, “Did you have to Google when that was relevant?! Is that what you were doing?”

You reply with, “Knowing that company, he probably texted someone else at RT to confirm it.”

Jon looks at the chat, then sheepishly to his camera. “...I totally texted Cole, you got me. He is my expert in all things meme.” Jon sighs in resignation as the chat fills with “Oh baby, a triple!” and he grumbles, “Alright, you know what? I'm just gonna play with whoever. See how that turns out.”

You type out, “Aw Jon, not on my birthday of all days!”

Jon shrugs, “Sass is never excused, birthday or not.” When the chat reminds him of his own sharp wit, he merely laughs and carries on with the game.

A few weeks later, your supervisors call your whole team in, telling you that there's a conference being held and they must select a representative to go. It would mean having to go during your days off, so immediately people are reluctant. You overhear one say to the other, “Isn't that based in Austin? Like, Texas Austin?”

You pipe up, “I'll do it!” and rush back to your desk to tweet: Who's gonna be in Austin this weekend? Well, like 2 million people according to Google. Make that like 2 million AND ONE!

Your phone buzzes familiarly to display a reply from none other than Jon: “@Y/N Is Emma Watson due to visit? Maybe I can get her to guest star on my show.”

You then get another from Meg Turney: “@JonRisinger @Y/N oh no if anyone's getting Emma Watson, it's Free Play!

More notifications:

**@MarielSalcedo** : @megturney @JonRisinger @Y/N AMEN. 

**@bdunkelman** : @megturney @JonRisinger @Y/N if any show deserves Emma Watson, it's the podcast!

**@RTcoe** : @bdunkelman @megturney @JonRisinger @Y/N could I convince you Sportsball needs her?

**@AH_Michael** : @bdunkelman @megturney @JonRisinger @Y/N we can let her into FAHC, right @geofflramsey?

**@geofflramsey** : @AH_Michael @bdunkelman @megturney @JonRisinger @Y/N sure.

**@JonRisinger** : @Y/N so how's them notifications for you, huh?

You screenshot your Notifications page and attach it to: “@JonRisinger GREAT. I LOVE MY NOTIFICATIONS BEING FILLED WITH STRANGERS.”

A new direct message reads:  _ I'm sorry about that. _

You reply:  _ Actually, it was pretty fun being somewhat part of that! _

Jon writes:  _ Well, I'm just as hyped that you'll be here! We should get dinner while you're down. _

You screenshot the message and continue to stare at it in awe. You can't move for several moments until your friends start repeatedly messaging asking why you're so quiet when  _ clearly _ all this RT interaction is happening. 

You post the screenshot in every conversation with your friends. You almost post it to Tumblr but realise Jon may see that by now. You contemplate printing off the screenshot, framing it and ringing your mother to tell her all about it.

Jon tweets about streaming that night, and you play it in the background while you pack. When he asks, “Who have I got in my chat today?” you type  _ your newest bestest buddy! _ , to which he sees and looks straight into his camera to say, “You should be packing, young lady!”

You type out,  _ I can do more than one thing at once, you know  _ to which he either chooses to ignore or just doesn’t see amongst the sea of other chatters. You listen along as you fold your clothes, and every time it gets silent, you watch his concentrated expression and your heart soars. You have to keep snapping yourself out of it, though - you don’t want to seem like some fangirl with a crush if you do actually get to see him.

When you land in Austin, you tweet out, “Generic Austin-I-am-in-you tweet”. Almost immediately, Jon likes it and sends you a DM,  _ So, dinner? _

You:  _ I appreciate the enthusiasm but I literally just landed. I haven’t even sent out for an Uber yet. _

Jon:  _ Don’t bother, I’ll pick you up. Where you staying overnight? _

You:  _ Idk, I was gonna look around for somewhere cheap and decent. _

Jon:  _ My couch it is! _

You: _ I couldn’t let you do that! You barely know me, anyway. _

Jon:  _ Well then more fool me. You still at the airport? _

You:  _ Yup.  _

Jon:  _ See you in a few! _

Sure enough, about 20 minutes later, a man with familiarly long hair gets out of the last car to pull up at the parking lot and looks around. Your heart beats faster as you see Jon Risinger in the flesh for the first time and you curse yourself for getting starstruck. He looks over to you questioningly and you nod in greeting to him, trailing your suitcase behind you as you walk over.

He beams as you approach him, “So I’m not being catfished! Excellent.” 

You burst into nervous laughter, which you immediately cover up by putting your hand to your mouth. You clear your throat, “Nope, just a simple fan artist.”

“Hey now,” he points his finger at you, “there’s no  _ simple _ or  _ fan _ about it. You  _ are _ an artist. Remember that.” The corners of his lips lift into a small smile and you return it warmly. 

He takes your luggage and loads it into the back, where you notice and excitedly point out that already sat there is, “Bella!”

“Oh sure, you get excited about the  _ dog _ , but I drive all up here, I offer you my couch…” Jon trails off, and when you look up at him apologetically, he smirks, “Nah, I’m just teasing.”

“Thank you for offering to do all this though, Jon, I mean you really don’t have to…” you mumble.

“Yeah, but I want to. The quality of that piece you did of me deserves some kind of commision,” he replies earnestly.

“Th-thank you…” you blush, kicking yourself for acting like a kid. You both get into the car and as he starts the engine, the speakers play halfway through a song.

You look at him through the corner of your eye and his face falls. “D-do you not like Twenty One Pilots?”

You grin, “You’re halfway through my favourite song, so you’re gonna have to listen to that first bit all over again, I’m afraid.”

With a relieved laugh, Jon shrugs, “Understandable. We don’t make the rules, we just follow ‘em, right?”

“Exactly!” you giggle, and start singing along to the song. Jon joins in with you and before you know it, you’re stopping off at a niche little diner, just tucked into the corner of a street. You’re worried conversation would be stale, but it just rolls off the tongue. Being in such close proximity of Jon makes you notice the little things - the way a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he listens to you talk, his fingernails tapping out tunes on the table surface as he hums softly to himself. Yet, somehow, you’re not so much  _ worried _ about showing your attraction for Jon. There’s an air of confidence around you, as if spurned by mutuality. There’s no way for you to tell, of course, but this doesn’t feel like you meeting one of your biggest idols - it feels more like a first date. 

He invites you back to Stage Five for a while and you freeze up, snapping back into the reality of your almost dreamlike situation right now. While you seem to be growing ever comfortable around Jon, he’s one person. You don’t think you could handle meeting lots of Rooster Teeth employees all in one go. Jon notices and leans over to squeeze your hand. “Or I could drop you back at mine, you could keep Luna company?”

You chuckle, “Just met me, and you’re willing to have me in your home by myself? How do you know I’m not going to steal all your stuff and run?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Jon nods, and you feel the heat crawling across your cheeks again.

You spend the afternoon reading through your newest book, sprawled out on the couch with Luna by your side. You barely notice Jon opening the front door until you hear his remark, “Well, glad you’ve made yourself at home.” You spring back up to sit bolt upright and he laughs, “I’m kidding, honestly, for tonight that’s yours, do what you want with it.”

The pair of you sit together and blindly pick films to watch on Netflix all night. After a feast of Homeslice pizza and half the sides offered on the menu, you feel a little more sluggish and find yourself falling to one side occasionally - and onto Jon. Every time you sit back up again and he tells you that it’s fine, but at one point you just let yourself fall onto him. He rests his arm around you for a while until eventually he pokes you in the side. “Alright, I’m getting kinda sleepy now, I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

In your half-asleep state, you mumble, “There’s not any, like, rules about getting you up or what time to get up in the morning or like, what to do with the dogs or anything, right?”

“I only have one rule for people who stay the night here,” Jon smirks, “you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

You laugh loudly, “Oh wow! Nice.”

Jon chuckles, “Thanks, I know. But seriously. Just you worry about your meeting, let me worry about my place. Just knock on my door if you need anything. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You and Jon exchanged numbers during your stay with him, and ever since you’ve had daily phone calls and text conversations. At one point Jon asks you, “Hey, so if you were ever to think up of a design for a potential new RT shirt, what wou-”

“Alright, let me email you this shit because I was thinking about just posting it as fanart for a while, but…” you trail off as you attach files to an email to Jon. There are seven pictures overall: a silhouette with short hair and a baseball cap clutching a frisbee to its chest; a silhouette with long hair and cat ears to match; one with very little hair, a lot of beard and glasses; one with sunglasses and a medallion holding a microphone; one with curly hair and glasses clutching an array of retro gaming controllers; one with short, slick-styled hair and thick, arching eyebrows, and one with a bob and glasses. All the silhouettes have one thing in common: the word ACHIEVE written across the bottom. 

“Someone’s been prepared for this for a while,” Jon teases.

“Someone’s been damn tired of waiting for the past three years for a Lindsay appreciation shirt,” you mutter back down the receiver, and Jon laughs loudly.

“Ah, so it’s to do with Lindsay…”

“One of them is,” you send the files and hum triumphantly, “there you go, you should have them now!”

You hear a few clicks and taps on Jon’s end before a sound of approval, “These are great! Wow!” he gushes as he clicks through each one. “These - I mean, I don’t want them to go to waste, but I don’t wanna just  _ take _ th-”

You interrupt, “Jon, you can use those. I don’t mind at all.”

“Ugh, you have no idea how badly I’m gonna have to repay you for this! Thank you so much!” he cheers before hanging up, and you carry on with your day as usual.

The next day, an unknown number rings you. You answer with a tentative, “Hello?”

A familiar voice stuns you as you hear none other than Matt Hullum himself ask, “Hello, is this Y/N?”

You eventually stammer out a, “Y-yeah…”

“Hi! My name’s Matt Hullum, I’m the -”

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” you blurt out before composing yourself. “How can I help you?”

“I believe you submitted some designs for new Achieve shirts to our own Jon Risinger, correct?” Matt asks.

You sputter, “Pff, well, I mean, I did, but only because he asked and I thought he could use it as a base, I did give him full permission when he asked -”

“Don’t worry, I’m not calling to tell you not to sue us for plagiarism,” you hear amusement lace his voice and you laugh back nervously. “No, I was just wondering, since your art style clearly seems to complement our art department’s, if maybe you were free to interview.”

His sentence sounds as though he’s shouting it from the other side of a tunnel. It echoes in your head over and over and you swallow hard. “Uh, I’d love to, but I have...Commitments all week and I’m nowhere near Austin…”

“How about we do it over Skype then, hm? I think you’d be a real asset to the team, Y/N.”

After that, everything becomes a bit of a blur. You’re Skyping with Matt, Burnie and Gavin. You’re hearing the sentence, “Welcome to Rooster Teeth, Y/N.” You’re handing your notice in. You’re discussing the termination of your lease of your apartment.

Which leads you to another thing. You have nowhere to live in Austin. You’d been voicing your fears to Jon who had said you could stay on his couch for as long as you needed, but you refused to let it be permanent. 

Jon keeps affirming to you that you can stay for as long as you want, that it’s nice to have a roommate. You remind him that you’re sleeping on a couch, and that that’s hardly a decent fate for a permanent roommate, but he shrugs it off. “We’ll find you something. But for now, you’re stuck with me.”

“What a shame.”

“Shut up, you love that you’ll be living here.”

“Only for unlimited Belluna cuddles, obviously!”

“I can’t believe you’re shipping my dogs.”

The chemistry between you and Jon grows as you work together. You’re in a whole other room from him, yet he still makes a point to come and see you. Sometimes it’s on his way to visit Achievement Hunter, then again on his way back. Sometimes it’s to ask if you want coffee since he’s getting some, then regardless of your answer he’ll drop by on his way back again. Sometimes it’s the same, but getting something to eat. Emily, who you share an office with, constantly teases you about it, saying that he has “such an obvious crush” on you. She’s not the only one, either, but she’s the one who’s around you the most, so you hear it from her the most.

Having Jon to talk to every time you were introduced to an employee helped. It would start off feeling like an ordinary conversation with him that other people merely joined in on. Before you know it, you’re on good speaking terms with practically everyone.

You even get asked out a couple of times, but you politely decline. You try and tell yourself that it’s because you don’t want any personal relationships at your professional workplace, but deep down you know that it’s because you’re kind of holding out that people are right about Jon liking you.

Before you know it, you’ve been working for the company for a month. Chris and Miles suggest taking you out for drinks to celebrate. Where you’d been so busy during your last month of living in your old place, and you hadn’t really been invited to bars here and you  _ definitely _ weren’t going to just invite yourself along. Your two-month hiatus from drinking has caused you to lose all tolerance for alcohol, apparently.

You’re out with most of the Live Action department, with a few sprinklings of Animation. Jon had already explained that he’s got important business stuff to attend to tomorrow, so he’s going to stay in all night. You go to the bathroom and come out again to not find anyone you knew. You see a guy you vaguely remember having a brief conversation with in the line to get in, and head over to stand with him. He offers you the place at the bar itself in front of him, and you take it happily, to which he stands directly behind you and lets his hand glide across your butt. You freeze, but let it slide as an accident. Until it happens again. And again. Your body is slowed down too much by your alcohol intake to process this quick enough for you to stop it immediately, but you keep pulling away, keep moving his hand. He doesn’t stop, going back for more. The only logical thing you can tell him as an excuse is that you’ve got work in the morning.

Finally, Blaine and Chris spot you. Blaine works on scaring the guy away, Chris rings Jon and orders you a glass of water. When Blaine returns from showing the guy out with your jacket that he’d picked up from the storage downstairs, you hug him tightly and thank him profusely. “It’s just a jacket,” Blaine chuckles, but you appreciate it in your current state nonetheless. Blaine and Chris lead you outside to wait for the familiar car to pull up. When you see Jon, you almost want to cry. It must show in your face, as he wordlessly strides to you and envelopes you into a safe and warm hug, stroking your hair. He doesn’t let go until you do, and you realise when you do pull away that Blaine and Chris have gone back in. 

Jon helps you into the passenger side, leaning over to strap your seatbelt on as well. As he climbs into the other side, you tell him, “The man kept touching me and I didn’t want him to because he wasn’t - hic,” you thank everything for that hiccup as the tiny part of you that still understands what’s going on here reminds you that you were just about to confess everything to Jon while in no fit state to discuss things properly.

Jon’s face forms a snarl, “God, I’m sorry that guy was a...Fucking jackass,” he growls.

You shake your head. “I’m very drunk.”

Jon can’t help but break his scowl to chuckle at you, “Yes, yes you are.”

“Why am I this bad? Is it my birthday again?”

“Nope, you just hadn’t been drinking in a while and now it’s all catching up,” Jon explains.

“Oh, okay then. Now,” you hold your hands out in front of you, for a reason you can’t really explain. “We need to start whispering now, okay?”

“Why?” Jon answers in a hushed tone.

“Because Jon’s asleep and so are the dogs and we can’t wake them,” you explain, still whispering, “so when we get to the apartment, super quiet, okay?”

Jon nods, “But why are we whispering now?”

“ _ Because practice makes perfect _ .” You start humming to the tune to the song that’s playing, “I like this.”

“Yeah, that’s Ed Sheeran for you,” Jon smirks, singing along himself. 

“Happy birthday, Ed Sheeran,” you muse happily, leaning against the cool window.

Jon laughs, “It’s not Ed Sheeran’s birthday!”

“Oh, then whose is it? Is it mine? Is that why I’m this drunk?” you ask, lifting your head again.

“It’s nobody’s birthday,” Jon assures you.

“Well that’s a lie, it’s gotta be  _ someone’s  _ birthday!” you protest, giggling at Jon’s side-eyeing before holding your hands to your mouth. “Ahh! We have to be quiet, remember, so we don’t wake up Jon!”

“Alright,” Jon smiles, “we’ll be quiet from now on.”

Jon helps you creep up to the apartment and slowly turns the key in the door. Pressing his finger to his lips, he pushes the door open gently and you creep in, rushing to the bathroom to clear yourself up. You poke your head out the door, “Psst, Jon!”

He responds from his room with a, “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to sleep in this dress.”

Another chuckle, soon followed by a large T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You get changed into them and Jon walks over to you with a sigh. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“Wh-But I sleep on the couch!”

“You’ve had a rough night, Y/N. You deserve to wake up with a bad hangover in a comfortable bed rather than on a lumpy couch. I’ll take that for tonight,” Jon starts, but you keep tight grip of his hand.

“Stay with me, please? I don’t want the other man coming back,” you look up at Jon with pleasing eyes and he shakes his head before ushering you onto his bed and following you. You take his hand to wrap his arm around you and he pulls you close to him. You ask, “Why did you sigh when you saw me just now?” you mumble sleepily, your eyes heavy as concrete.

“No reason. Goodnight,” you just about hear before drifting off to sleep.

The next day, you wake up in Jon’s bed, in his old clothes, with him laying next to you. You sit up and press the heels of your palms into your eyes in agony as the light that stings them sends a ray straight to your head. You look to see that Jon has left you some water, and you try to swing your legs out of bed to take a sip and go, but your body feels as though it's made of lead. You merely sit up to take the sip, glance at the 06:30 on your phone, and flop back onto the pillow.

By the time you next wake up, it's 10:45. You practically fall out of bed trying to get up when Jon walks in and smiles, “Don't worry about it.”

“B-but I've only been here a month, I don't wanna seem like -”

“I told Matt that I think you were spiked last night. Apparently other people had told him you were in no fit situation last night to be able to focus on today.”

“But I remember things...There was a guy...I'd met him outside in the line...I thought he was okay…” you remember what he'd done and shivers run throughout your body.

Jon climbs into the bed and wraps an arm around you. “He isn't here now, though.”

“I don't really remember anything after that,” you admit. Jon tells you of the Live Action crew helping you get away, the car ride home. “Why did I keep thinking it was people's birthday?!” you groan, and Jon laughs. 

“It was cute, don't worry about it.”

You turn your head to face him and realise just how close his face is to yours. You swallow hard, trying to ignore it.  _ He was just being a good roommate, _ you tell yourself. “But wait, why aren't you at work?”

“Matt even agreed I should probably stay to look after you,” Jon explains. 

“Thank you,” you whisper with a grin, and Jon reciprocates. “Let me take us to dinner tonight, as payback.” As Jon tries to tell you that you don't need to, you roll over and press your fingers to your ears singing, “I can't hear you so I'm guessing that's a yes!”

When Jon recognises the place he first took you when you first visited, he comments, “Man, this place feels familiar…”

“Shut up,” you dig your elbow into his side playfully, “I don't know that many places in Austin.”

Dinner once again goes so well that you don't even want this moment to end. You kind of want to press pause on this moment, this where even though he probably doesn't think the same thing, you could look back on this moment and fool yourself into believing you and Jon went on a second date, too.

When you get back, instead of retiring to the couch, Jon offers, “Hey, you wanna just camp out on the bed for a bit?”

You shrug in response, “If that's cool with you!”

“Well duh, or else I wouldn't be offering, would I?” he smirks.

You're both sat up on the bed watching TV. Jon's arm rests behind you, but he does that with everyone. You both gradually start sinking down without realising until you notice your head is fully on the pillow that had been your back support. 

You turn to look at Jon to once again notice how close he is to you. You see the stripes of light and dark blue flash through his eyes. You notice the slight stubble sprinkling his jawline and can't help but run the back of your hand along it. You hear his breath hitch and then draw out a deep breath, as though he's longing for something. His eyes dart down to your lips.  _ No. It can't be. _ As if in slow motion, Jon leans in to close the minute gap between you, pressing his lips to yours softly. He immediately sits upright after, “I-I’m sorry if that was out of place, I-”

You practically pounce onto his lap with a grin and pull him close into another, deeper kiss. You feel your teeth clash with his as you both grin into it. Jon opens the kiss up and plays your tongue with his own. His soft moans drive you completely wild. When you finally break off, you grin down at him, “Are you sure you wanna be dating someone who started out as a simple fangirl?”

Jon pushes your hair aside. “Remember what I first said to you about that? There's nothing simple about it, and you're not just a part of fandom culture. You're your own beautiful person who I admire so much and who I am very proud of. And I'd count myself the luckiest guy in the whole damn world if you agreed to a third date with me.”

You giggle, “You count those two dinners as well, huh?” and Jon nods. 

=-=-=

You watch Jon try and compose himself in front of you and while you want to kiss his cheek for luck like usual, you can't right now. He clears his throat, hands still shaking as he looks to you. “Y/N, if you remember, when you first moved in with me I said there was only one rule. You can't fall in love with me. I guess it's safe to say that rule is broken,” you and everyone else laugh, “but I broke it first, so I'll let it slide. You bring out the best in me, you make me want to make you proud. Every time you get that excited look on your face when I show you a design, or when I pitch you an idea for a show, I know I've done well. I don't even need final approval, I just need yours. I don't know how I managed to get so lucky, but somehow I manage to get to see that face every time I go to bed and wake up and you're always so perfect. I mean, even in the morning, Y/N! How?!” More laughter. “I can't wait to wake up to the most beautiful sight every day of my life.” He finishes with the biggest beam you've ever seen.

“Well, I'm glad I went first because I sure can't beat that!” you exclaim, and everyone laughs, including the pastor.

The pair of you are bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement until the pastor finally pronounces you man and wife, and you practically fling yourself at Jon who whirls you around into a long kiss as the room fills with cheers. As they continue, Jon stops to lean close to your ear, “You hear that? That's exactly what I heard in my head the first time I kissed you.”

You pull him into a tight hug and he reciprocates, as you look around the room filled with family and friends old and new.

To think this time two years ago, you thought yourself a simple fan artist. Now you've got the job of your dreams, the man of your dreams. You get him to take a picture with you and tweet out to your followers: “It worked for Ginny Weasley and it worked for me. Never give up, kids.” There are two attachments to your tweet: The picture you just took with your husband, and the gif that started it all.


End file.
